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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25900210">Cinnamon</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux'>cowboykylux</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>If The Creek Don't Rise [40]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Logan Lucky (2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bartenders, Clyde Logan is a Sweetheart, Duck Tape Bar &amp; Grill (Logan Lucky), F/M, Showing Off, Southern Gentleman Clyde Logan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:15:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>612</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25900210</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Clyde loves pulling out all the stops for you when you come visit him at work, and you love watching him show off, impressed with his skills, and so in love.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clyde Logan/Reader, Clyde Logan/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>If The Creek Don't Rise [40]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/927228</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Cinnamon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s shittin’ rain outside when the doors to Duck Tape practically slam open like some evil villain’s entrance in one of those old monster books Clyde likes to read sometimes. The big ol’ crack of lightning illuminating you from behind doesn’t do anythin’ to change that fact neither, and Clyde is all too ready to reach under the bar for his trusty baseball bat – until he recognizes the shape of your outline in the dark, and you step into the light of the bar, drenched from head to toe and doin’ your best not to shiver and shake all over his floor.</p><p>“Ohhh shit, look what the cat dragged in!” One of the regulars whistles loud, on account of your t-shirt bein’ soaked through and your bra more or less on display for all the cloudy and glazed over eyes to see.</p><p>Earl smacks him upside the head before anyone can do anything about it.</p><p>“Be nice now,” He warns in that gravely voice of his, “That’s Clyde’s girl, you can’t go talkin’ like that about (Y/N).”</p><p>Clyde is by your side in less time than it takes for Earl to finish slappin’ the guy at the bar, already handin’ you his button-up to dry you off, get you warm.</p><p>“Who was talkin’ like what?” You snap playfully, shooting a pointed look in the general direction of the bar, even though you’re smilin’, “I thought so. Hey handsome.” You lean up to kiss him, and he happily returns the smooch.</p><p>“Hi darlin’, what can I get ya?” He asks you, following your lead to the bar top, watching as you sit your pretty ass up on your favorite stool.</p><p>“Why don’t you surprise me?” You ask teasingly, wringing out your hair with a small clean towel Clyde finds for ya from underneath the counter.</p><p>“I could never surprise you, you’re too smart for alla’ that.” He teases right back, makin’ you blush and bite your grin at him.</p><p>“Something warm then.” You suggest, still shivering just a little despite Clyde’s good efforts.</p><p>“Somethin’ to warm my girl, comin’ right up.” He nods, thinkin’.</p><p>He then starts up makin’ one of his seasonal specialties, an apple spiced bourbon toddy. The bar is soon filled with the sweet spicy scent of star anise and cinnamon, and Clyde wastes no opportunity to show off. He flips and swirls the drink round and round, tosses the spices up into the air to land in the little sauce-pan he keeps just for the occasion. He squeezes the lemon with one hand and somehow manages to catch all the seeds, flicking them at the guy who had whistled at you in a way that made you laugh.</p><p>“What’s so funny over there?” Clyde asks, a small cheeky smile creepin’ up onto his face.</p><p>“Nothing, I just love you.” You beam up at him, make him so warm inside that he ain’t so sure he wasn’t the one drinkin’ the damn thing.</p><p>“You love me?” He asks, mock-surprised, and you roll your eyes. “You sure it ain’t just ‘cuz I’m puttin’ in extra cinnamon for ya?”</p><p>“No, you’re right, that’s the only reason.” You scoff, before standing up and leanin’ over the counter to kiss your favorite bartender square on the lips, tastin’ of crisp rain and sweet smiles.</p><p>By the time he’s done with the drink and pouring it into one of the nice hand-made mugs he bought for the bar from the farmer’s market, you’re applauding his efforts and the chill in your bones dissipates with the first sip, and he ain’t never been more in love – even if it is only thanks to the cinnamon.</p>
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